


Now Or Never

by shipping_slut



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Richonne - Freeform, stuff and thangs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipping_slut/pseuds/shipping_slut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Richonne.</p>
<p>Takes place in King County, Rick and Michonne are close friends and next door neighbors. What happens when an intoxicated mistake leads to a surprise pregnancy?</p>
<p> Rated E for reasons. Tags will change as it progresses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is my first attempt at Richonne. And to be honest, I'm scared shitless to try my hand at a ship that has such amazing writers already. But well, I like Richonne too dang it! I knew eventually I'd get here, but this fic kind of took me by surprise. The plot anyway. So yeah. Here goes.
> 
> For those of you not familiar with what I do, each chapter will do a POV switch. First MIchonne, then Rick, back to Michonne, etc. Hoping to update at least once a week, seeing as how I have another fic that kinda holds my heart right now.

Michonne didn’t need to look down at the plastic stick in her hand to know what it was going to say. Two lines for positive, one for negative. It was going to have two lines. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind. Periods weren’t two weeks late for no reason, no one felt nauseous for three days straight without a good cause. And Michonne knew her body. Sleeping at all hours of the day wasn’t normal, she wasn’t supposed to feel tired all the way down to her bones from simply grocery shopping. It didn’t take a genius a figure it out. Even the pregnancy test in her hand seemed to have came to the same conclusion rather quickly, despite the directions on the box telling her it could take up to fifteen minutes for the results to show.

She looked down, seen the two lines that confirmed her worst fears, felt her stomach drop at the sight.

Even if she’d known what it was going to say, it still didn’t make the news any easier to swallow. A small part of her had prayed she was wrong, had almost felt like she was over reacting when she’d decided to finally grab a First Response off the shelf at the store. 

But if she’d needed any more proof than the long list of symptoms she’d already recognized, it was staring her in the face now in the shape of two lines, lines that were so dark that there was no doubting their accuracy. 

“How’s it going in there?”

Her friend’s voice coming through the door pulled Michonne out of her thoughts, finally setting down the pregnancy test on the counter, taking a deep breath as she opened the bathroom to see Andrea‘s worried face.

“Come see for yourself.”

She cracked the door more allowing Andrea completely inside the small space, watched as she stared down at the stick that Michonne had just held, seen Andrea’s forehead wrinkle in concern.

“You gonna tell him?” Andrea asked, her blue eyes staring into Michonne’s with nothing but pity.

“What else would you suggest? Walk around for nine months and tell him it’s a pillow under my shirt? Rick’s gonna figure it out.”

Andrea didn’t look amused by Michonne’s sass, but Michonne couldn’t find it in herself to care in that moment. Her world had officially tilted on it’s axis. At least she could be allowed her normal sarcasm.

“I mean, are you gonna tell him...like, now?”

Michonne had suspected she was pregnant for a few days, but not once in those few days had she’d considered how she’d tell Rick. How do you tell your best friend that he accidentally got you pregnant from one a night stand? One that neither of you could even remember very well because you were both black out drunk. That one night of idiotic drinking while his son was out of town had led to something far more life changing than a hangover? 

It wasn’t supposed to happen to her and Rick. Nothing was ever supposed to happen between her Rick.

Rick was her friend. The one man in her life she could count on. One of the few people she trusted, period. She didn’t even really see him that way. Rick Grimes with the bow-legged walk and the strong southern drawl? No thanks. He didn’t even have a penis as far as she was concerned, no offense to him. And the idea that at some point he’d been inside of her made her cheeks blush just thinking about it. Knowing that they’d somehow created a life together was too hard to wrap her head around, why she’d waited so long to pee on a stick.

“Well, at least you already know he’s a good father.” Andrea joked, clearly trying to make Michonne feel better.

And it wasn’t that Michonne felt terrible, just scared. Scared that a baby would change things. Knowing that a baby would change things.

“He’s a good father to a teenager. That doesn’t mean he wants a newborn.”

Michonne watched as Andrea stubbornly shook her head, clearly about to enlighten her to something. Or at least attempt to.

“Give him time. Give yourself time. The question is, do you want a newborn?”

And this was the part of the conversation she’d been dreading. The self reflection. Did she want a newborn? The answer was yes, Michonne knew that. How long had she struggled to get pregnant with Mike? And how terrible had it felt when she’d finally miscarried that baby, only to have the bastard leave a few weeks later? The thing was, she’d missed the baby more than she’d ever missed the man. How could she miss a man that had never once tried to comfort her after that loss, had never once understood how much it’d meant to her?

But Rick was different, Michonne knew that. He understood, it was probably why they’d bonded so quickly when she’d moved in next door to him and Carl. 

He’d been reserved at first, but so had she. And maybe opposites did attract, but so did two people that had so much in common that they could recognize it almost upon first glance. From the first guarded conversation they’d ever had when he’d helped her roll her trash cans to the curb. 

They’d both been burned by life. Her by Mike and Rick by his ex-wife who’d slept with his best friend, a story Michonne had slowly gathered the details of from bits and pieces of clipped conversation. Clipped conversation that had slowly evolved into a friendship like nothing she’d ever really had before. But who better to trust than a person that was just as cautious as you?

“Hey, I asked a question.” Andrea spoke again, snapping her fingers in front Michonne’s face. “Do you want a newborn?”

She asked it so bluntly, Michonne knew what her friend was getting at. It was the reason for their budding friendship, their shared love of harsh honesty.

“There are options you know.” 

Michonne just shook her head, not even wanting to consider those options for a second. She had a baby. No matter how Rick reacted, no matter what it changed, she surely wasn’t going to get rid of something she’d tried so hard for in the past. Something she still wanted, even if it came unexpectedly. 

“I’m aware of the options. Not interested.”

“Suit yourself. Your life, your baby. Well, and Rick’s baby.”

Andrea’s attempt at humor was much needed, finally making a smile form on Michonne’s lips.

And it was Rick’s baby. Michonne was positive of that. She surely hadn’t slept with anyone else, not in a long time anyway. It was almost funny that the one time she’d finally crawled into bed with someone, she couldn’t even remember it. She had a baby that she didn’t remember making. Other than a few scraps of information. She could recall ending up in his bedroom, remembered unbuttoning his shirt. Couldn’t quite place what they’d been talking about, what had led to it. If she thought really hard, she could pull up how his beard how felt against her face, how clumsy his own intoxicated actions had been.

She did remember the morning after though. Waking up and sneaking out of Rick’s bed before his eyelids even opened. Getting dressed while refusing to glance in his direction, afraid she’d see parts of him she’d rather not see. 

Michonne would’ve been happy to never mention it again, to pretend it’d never happened. But in true Rick fashion, always the gentlemen, a few days later while they’d been standing in his backyard grilling steaks, he’d finally brought it up, clearly feeling more awkward about what had happened than she had. Of course he’d phrased the question perfectly, had asked Michonne if she needed to talk about it. But she knew the truth, that Rick needed to talk about it. That he was the one that needed to make sure it wasn’t going to effect their relationship.

She could still remember the quiet acceptance on his face when she’d brushed the entire thing under the rug, telling him it’d been an intoxicated mistake, that she’d rather stick her head in an oven than ever talk about it again. And she hadn’t asked his opinion either. Rick valued their friendship as much as she did, and Michonne had known he’d simply been trying to acknowledge the elephant room, to make sure their mistake wasn’t going to change things. And with her answer, he’d finally smiled and went back to flipping their steaks, at ease in her presence once more.

But now the shoe was on the other foot. Now it was Michonne’s turn to hunt him down and bring up what had transpired once again. And she had a funny feeling this time after speaking her peace, Rick wasn’t going to smile, was going to be anything but at ease.

 

 

It wasn’t until after seeing Andrea out the door with promises to update her later that Michonne’s brave resolve started to crack. The reality sinking in as just another wave of fatigue was washing over her, reminding her how very real the life growing inside of her already was. A baby that was half Rick, a small piece of him that would forever be a part of her life. Was she ready for that type of commitment? Better yet, was he? How was he going to feel that they’d managed to create a bond that would last until they both took their last breaths? 

There was only one way to find out, to tell him. And Michonne had never been one to shy from fear, if anything she’d always looked it dead straight in the face. Just like she was going to do to Rick, look him straight in the eye and break the news, already knew he’d tilt his head in confusion like he always did, that his jaws would clench until his mind worked out what he wanted to say.

Looking out the window, she checked for his police cruiser, seen it parked in the driveway next door, telling her that he was home for the day. A part of her had wished he’d had a late call, anything to allow her to put off the conversation that needed to happen. But clearly, it was meant to be. 

Finally, taking a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare herself, Michonne stepped outside closing her own front door behind herself and made the small walk over to his house. She stopped on the doorstep for a moment, wondering if she should give the usual knock before barging in like she always did. Everything felt so different now, at least to her. But she remembered that the two Grimes boys inside had no idea of the changes to come, and she didn’t want to alert them. Not yet. 

So she did what had come to be expected of her, gave the door a few firm beats with her knuckles to announce her presence before walking straight in.

And when she seen only Carl, sitting alone at the kitchen table doing his homework, she breathed a silent sigh of relief. Carl she could handle just fine.

“Dinner’s not done yet.” He told her, looking up from the books on the table, a teasing smile on his face.

“I don’t always come for food.”

It normally would’ve been a lie, but not anymore. Just the idea of eating now made her stomach turn, her nostrils filling with smells that weren’t even there. Another symptom. Another reminder of why she was there. But if Rick wasn’t in the room, she could push it away a little bit longer, put her attention on Carl, fall back into their normal routine.

“So what evil teacher gave you homework on the last week of school?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Michonne was done with the school year, hadn’t given her students homework for two weeks. But she had to remind herself that Carl was in high school now, next year he’d be a sophomore. Much more sophisticated than her first graders.

“All of them. But it’s okay, I’m almost done. Wanna finish for me?”

She looked down at the sneaky look on his face, just shook her head at his question. But she had to give the kid credit for trying.

“Fine. Want to help at least?” Carl asked accepting defeat.

Michonne knew Carl probably didn’t really need her help, just wanted her attention. Not that she minded. He was a loving kid, even if he didn’t realize it. Sure, his parents divorce had effected him, but he was managing okay. Always had a friendly smile for her, sometimes talked to her so much that Michonne wasn’t sure who she was closer to. Rick or his son.

And as she sat at the kitchen table trying to answer his questions, her mind wandered easily given the circumstances.

How would this baby effect Carl? 

Rick was as close to being a single working father as possible, without actually being one. Lori was still in Carl’s life, but Michonne could tell he preferred his dad. That he only visited Lori in Atlanta when absolutely necessary. Eventually he’d get over the anger he had for his mother, Michonne knew that. But would he ever get over the anger of having to share his father’s attention with a new baby? 

Her gut told her yes, but the small insecure part of her that she didn’t even like to admit to having made her worry. 

There was no doubt Carl was capable of being an amazing big brother. But Michonne had never once for a minute thought she’d take part in turning him into one. And it would come as much of a shock to him as it had to her.

“Where’s your dad at?” She finally asked, her nerves building again. Knowing the only way to make anxiety go away was to just do what needed to be done.

“He’s in the shower. Probably done by now.”

Michonne nodded standing up, felt her muscles tensing at what she was about do.

“Stay here, alright? I gotta talk to him for a second.”

If Carl noticed anything odd, he didn’t say anything. Just gave her a shrug as he continued writing down his answers, clearly more concerned with getting his homework done than worrying about what Michonne wanted his dad for.

She pushed her chair in, took another deep breath, rolled her shoulders to work away some of tension. It was now or never, and never wasn’t an option.

 

By the time she walked up the stairs, the bathroom door was wide open, steam rolling out of it, Rick nowhere in sight. But she knew where he was. The last place she’d wanted to have this conversation, his bedroom. The same place everything had unfolded, the room that was responsible for putting her in such a position. But it almost seemed fitting. To break the news while sitting on the very same bed that had started it all.

Another deep breath. Another nervous knock on a door, a door she wouldn’t dare barge into.

“Come in.” Rick answered from the other side, his voice that of a man that was just going about his day. Of a man who didn’t know the bomb awaiting him when she opened it. 

“It’s me.” She told him, letting him know it wasn’t Carl, that he needed to get dressed first.

She heard a few dresser drawers open and close, heard some shuffling as he put some clothes on. Tried not to imagine him standing there shirtless, debating between a plain white t-shirt or a plaid button up. 

“Alright, now you can come in.”

His voice was full of laughter and when she finally walked in, a playful smile was on his face. It was a smile that most people didn’t get to see, one he saved for her and Carl, the people who knew him best. To everyone else he was Rick Grimes, the slightly bitter man who’s wife had left him for his best friend.

And she almost felt guilty for what she was about to do, almost backed out as she closed the door behind herself, finally having worked up the courage to come completely inside. 

“You came all the way up here for me to tell you dinner’s not done yet?” He asked, still standing in front of his dresser, putting his watch back on his arm.

Michonne felt herself smile despite her nerves, shooting him an evil glare for the comment.

“It’s not always about the food.”

“Fair enough. You can’t be here looking for Carl though, so what else could it be?”

It was a running joke and Michonne wasn’t even sure why they still pretended that the only reason for their friendship was because of food and Carl anymore. They both knew the truth, even if they didn’t want to admit it. But that was them, she figured. The way it’d always been. Even if it was about to change.

“I’m looking for you, believe it or not.”

“Garbage disposal broke again?”

That time she did laugh, actually tried to hold it back for Rick’s sake. The memory of him under her kitchen sink would be forever etched into her mind. How only his body had been visible from his position on the floor between her cabinets. She’d never been able to see his face, but she’d heard the curse words loud and clear as water had spewed out everywhere, creating a mess far worse than what she’d started out with.

“Even if it was, you wouldn’t touch it again. You were supposed to fix it. Not flood my kitchen.”

“Alright, what is it then?” 

She met his blue eyes, knew it was probably the last time they’d be looking at her without a worry for a very long time. 

“Maybe you should sit down for this.”

He was still clueless, still thought she was stringing him along for some form the ball busting that usually came. It wasn’t until he sat down on his bed, always one to happily follow her commands, and looked up at her that she seen his expression finally change. From blissful ignorance to immediate worry, an expression that matched her own.


	2. Chapter 2

Maybe Rick didn’t have quite the experience with women that his ex-best friend, Shane, did. But even he could tell that something wasn’t right. From Michonne’s never ending deep breaths, to her stiff posture, she was a walking red flag. It didn’t help that whatever she was about to say was clearly a struggle for her and Rick wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Michonne struggle with her words. Not even when he’d finally cornered her to talk about that night. Rick had been the one squirming then, not entirely sure what he’d wanted her to say. To forget about it so as not to risk their friendship? Or for her to say that she too couldn’t quite push the memories out of her head, no matter how choppy and distorted they were from the alcohol that had been flowing through their veins?

Because he couldn’t push the images away, no matter how hard he tried. The feeling of her strong thighs wrapped around his waist, the moan that had escaped her mouth when she’d finally lowered herself down on him. That sound had quite possibly been his favorite part, even more so than remembering that she’d been the one to kiss him first. Did she remember that? That it had been her that had finally closed that distance, had taken that first step? He doubted it. And judging by how quickly she’d fled that next morning when she’d thought he was still sleeping, Rick knew he wasn’t going to tell her anytime soon. Michonne clearly wanted to forget. And if forgetting was what kept their friendship, he was going to do his best to look at the woman standing in front of him and pretend he only seen a friend and nothing more. 

But maybe he hadn’t done a very good job of it he worried, watching Michonne pace the confines of his bedroom, not even trying to hide that she was uncomfortable anymore. Rick could feel the fear building inside of him, making his jaws clench. Maybe she’d noticed the side long stares. The eye contact that had rested a beat too long. Maybe she’d finally woken up to how his eyes tracked her body every time she walked into a room, and especially when she walked out. 

The only time he’d ever seen her so clearly wanting to flee was the morning she’d gotten dressed and left his bedroom in a hurry, leaving him in the dust. Was she about to leave him in the dust now too? Had his lingering eyes finally pushed her too far?

“I’m sittin’.”

He finally spoke, kept his voice low so as not to rattle her anymore than she already was. But Rick couldn’t take it anymore, his heart was about to beat out of his chest. Whatever she’d came to say couldn’t possibly be something he wanted to hear. 

When she finally turned around to face him, Rick knew he was in trouble. Feared that her loss of words was because there was no nice way to let your best friend down and he knew Michonne would never want to hurt him, worried that her intense stare was because she’d finally figured him out.

“I’m getting there. Okay?” She told him, finally sitting down, and Rick was positive she’d left a foot of distance between their bodies on purpose.

He was busted, had to be. But maybe he could explain.

Explain that when she’d first moved in next door, he’d acknowledged that his new neighbor was attractive but that had been it. He’d been too shaken after Lori to put much thought into it, still trying to work on his own internal struggle. That by the time he’d found himself physically craving her smile that light up every feature on her face that it’d been too late, they’d already formed a friendship that he wasn’t willing to lose. That even now, after actually getting a chance to fall asleep with her body pressed next to his, he’d be willing to pretend it never happened. If it meant everything would be okay, that’d she’d just stop looking at him like she was about to crush him.

And just when he was about to speak, to apologize for what he felt he’d done wrong, she just shook her head, stopping the words from ever leaving his lips.

“Can you at least give me something?” He pleaded, meeting his eyes with hers, could tell she was about to crack. That whatever bad news she’d brought was about to be revealed.

He watched her take another deep breath, seen her nod to herself, like she was finally talking herself into to doing whatever it was she was about to do.

And when the words left her lips, Rick felt his head tilt in confusion, not quite believing what his ears were hearing.

“I’m pregnant.”

At first he thought it was a joke and almost laughed. That she was pulling his leg, finally one upping him in a way he’d never be able to out do. But the fear in her brown eyes told him the truth, that Michonne was dead serious, staring at him, waiting for his reaction.

And he didn’t have to ask why she was telling him, he knew. This baby was his, there was no doubting it. 

It was his turn to choke on his words, not quite sure what to say, what to think. He could feel his own face struggling to form the right expression, finally settling on just biting down on his lip as he stared at her in disbelief.

“You’re gonna have a baby?” He asked, making sure he’d gotten it right, wanting to know it hadn’t been his mind playing tricks on him.

Michonne nodded, her face still serious but it didn’t stop her usual humor from making an appearance, even if just a little.

“That’s usually what happens when women get pregnant, yes.” 

“But we were drunk. I’m surprised I could even...”

He let his voice trail off, not wanting to remind her of what had happened with his next words. That he was suprised he’d even been able to get the correct body parts inside of her’s. It was a vulgar thought he was positive she wouldn’t appreciate.

It was all he could think to say, his mind still a mess. It didn’t seem possible to create a life when he’d barely been aware of what he was doing. Maybe shock was to blame, but that was all he could think, could focus on. How do you get someone pregnant from a night you didn’t even remember?

“Well, clearly you did something right.” She assured him, reading his mind like she always could.

“Or wrong.”

As soon as he blurted the words out, Rick wanted to take them back. Seen her amused smile from his shock quickly disappear, changing from amusement to pain. He’d hurt her with the statement. He’d meant condoms, she clearly thought he’d meant this baby. Their baby.

Rick wanted to apologize, meant to, but his mind was just working too fast.

A baby.

He’d thought he was done with babies and everything that came with them. Waking up in the middle of the night, complicated car seats, diaper runs, ear infections. And how would it work with them not living together? Babies weren’t recycling bins that you could share with your neighbors. What would they do? Pass it over the fence back and forth on their given nights? 

Rick knew Michonne was waiting on him to speak. Could feel her stare digging into him, almost like she was trying to will him to speak. And once he finally did, he realized just how ridiculous the question was, but it was all he could think before his mind got carried away.

“You’re sure?”

“My period is late, the test said yes, I can smell food that isn’t here, I want to sleep all day, and my boobs hurt so bad that I wish I could go to work braless. Yeah, I’m sure.”

If it hadn’t been for her voice rising a little in frustration Rick might have let his eyes linger a bit too long on her chest, just the mention had drawn them there out of habit. It was an inappropriate thought that led to other questions though, far more important ones.

Would she breastfeed? Then there was no way in hell this baby would ever stay at his house, not for a very long time. Would she let him in the room when this child was born? Go to doctors appointments? Cut the umbilical cord? Who’s last name would this baby get? Michonne was so fiercely independent, but she’d always let Rick help her. Would it stay that way? Or would this pregnancy push her away from him so as to better define the line in the sand between friendship and something more? Would she keep her distance so as not to confuse him?

He rubbed his beard and shook his head, realizing he was already imagining the weight of a newborn in his hands, realizing the thought wasn’t so bad. There were worse things in the world than an unexpected pregnancy. And while he was busy making plans for a kid that wasn’t even there yet, Michonne was still staring at him, growing impatient for a real a response.

“It’s okay to say this isn’t what you want.” She finally spoke, filling the silence for him.

“I didn’t say that.”

He was trying to reassure her but her words had hurt. He’d went from wondering if they’d agree on baby names to Michonne thinking he wanted no part of it. 

Finally, he looked over at her, seen the eerie calm on her face. But before he could speak, she went on, clearly dead set on letting him off the hook, a thought that crushed him.

“But it isn’t what you’d want if you could choose.”

Of course it wasn’t what Rick would want if he could choose. Not that his mind hadn’t ever went there in the early morning hours on nights he couldn’t sleep, his imagination getting the best of him. Him, Carl, and Michonne were already like a family unit in a sense. Was is really so strange he’d imagined what it would be like if he’d finally closed that distance between them? For his brain to run wild when no one was there to witness him fantasizing about how it would feel if she were there with him, her body pressed close to his? To think about what he’d cook her for breakfast? For them to truly be a family, maybe with a few more kids running under their feet?

But in all those fantasies, Michonne had always came before kids. Kids had barely even registered, only when he was feeling particularly imaginative. Rick had always wanted her, had barely dared to dream about what happened after.

Hell, he still wanted her. And a baby would make it messy. The pressure to keep their relationship peaceful would out weigh his need to become more every time. 

“No, it isn’t.” He finally admitted, knowing Michonne could read him well enough to know the truth anyway. That there was no point in denying it. 

“Well, I would want it.” She finally told him, looking him straight in the eye.

Even if a small part of him secretly wished Michonne meant she wanted a baby with him, Rick knew the truth. Michonne just wanted a baby. He could still remember the night she’d told him about that miscarriage, how her bastard of a boyfriend had left. It was the first time she’d ever let him comfort her, a moment that Rick still played over in his mind from time to time. 

“Just think on it, Rick.” 

The tone she used, the way his name sounded stiff on her lips it was all wrong. Rick knew he was about to miss another chance to comfort her as he watched her get up from his bed and make her way towards the door. He couldn’t believe he was about to let this moment slip through his fingers, it was far too important.

“Wait..”

She wasn’t stopping. But right before she made her exit, had the door already cracked, he forced it shut with his palm, his chest almost touching her back.

He heard her sigh in frustration but didn’t care. For once, he had to make sure his point was clear.

“You really think I wouldn’t want this baby?” He asked, his voice cracking from the nerves, felt the relief flood through his body as he watched her shake her head.

“It’s just...a shock.” He spoke, still staring at the back of her head, wishing she’d turn around so he could look her in the eyes.

But he realized he’d already made her flee, it was his job to make her stay. Finally placing the same hand on her shoulder, he forced her around, to look at him.

Rick could tell she was amused, watching him struggle to find the right words. And it felt a lot better than how she’d been just moments before, even if he did feel awkward for growing serious so suddenly. 

“I’m gonna hug you.” He warned her, trying to bring some light to the situation. “Because I still don’t know what to say.”

That time she laughed, the soft smile he loved spreading across her face. And even if she was just trying to laugh him off, she still let him place his shaking hands on her shoulders, gripping her tightly, let him look her in the eyes. Eyes that were full of relief.

It wasn’t until he pulled her body towards his, wrapped his arms around her neck that Michonne hugged him back. Her strong arms around his torso, her face buried into his chest. Rick hadn’t realized how badly she’d needed the contact too until that moment. Or maybe he had, but he’d been afraid to start it. Afraid she’d refuse after everything he’d said.

And it felt so good that he almost forgot to speak. Just wanted to stay like that forever, with her finally curled against him, squeezing him tight. It felt so damn natural that Rick wasn’t sure why he’d been so worried, or how she could believe for even a second that he’d think a baby shared between them would be such a bad thing.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, running his hand over the back of her head, holding her closer.

Rick was fighting every urge he had not to lean down and kiss her until finally he just caved, planting his lips softly against her braids. He could’ve stayed that way too, but he knew his mouth had other jobs to do.

“We’ll figure it out.” He tried to assure her, refusing to move his mouth from her hair, breathing in her scent. “I want to figure this out. I’m sorry I made you think...”

His voice trailed off, knowing better than to put words in a pregnant woman’s mouth. 

“I’m just sorry. And I’m sorry _our_ baby will probably be just as clueless as me.”

He was trying to make her laugh and it worked, he felt her chuckles vibrating against his chest until she finally pulled away.

And as much as he missed the feeling of her in his arms, he was willing to let her go if it meant everything would be okay. So long as she kept smiling at him. So long as she didn’t leave his house thinking that he didn’t want a be a part of this child’s life. Or her’s.

“You gonna stay for dinner?” He asked, a smile tugging on his lips from the relief he felt. 

Michonne just shook her head before responding, still looking at him like he was as cheesy as he felt. Rick still couldn’t believe he’d forced a hug on her, almost blushed for being so forward But it’d been worth it.

“I can’t. I have report cards to fill out. Wouldn’t really want to anyway, me and food aren’t agreeing at the moment.”

He felt like an idiot for already forgetting the nausea that came with pregnancy, feeling like he’d already let her down.

“Well, tell me what you want. Whatever it is, I’ll cook it. Even if it’s seedless watermelon with pickles and vanilla ice cream.” He joked, just wanting to keep her smiling. Even though it was a honest offer. It was the least he could do.

“You gonna do this for the next nine months? Hover over me, force me to eat, telling me to stay off my feet?”

He could tell she dreaded just the idea, but that was Michonne. Rick knew her well enough to know she was going to fight being pampered, at least until she honestly needed it. But he wasn’t going to lie either, couldn’t if he’d wanted to. His face was telling the truth for him, already a big grin on his face.

“Probably.” He answered, knowing that was putting lightly. “Well, yes actually. I am.”

She just rolled her eyes and laughed.

“Well, you’re gonna have plenty of time for that later. I really have work to do. And you need to sit down and think about what you’re gonna tell Carl.”

As soon as she said his son’s name, Rick felt his smile falter. In the surprise of the news, Rick may have left out some details. Even major ones like Carl’s reaction. It definitely wasn’t ideally how Rick would want his son to become a big brother. Nor was it the best example to set, getting your friend pregnant from a drunken encounter.

“Yeah, see. Worry about him. Then maybe I’ll let you worry about me.” Michonne told him, reading the worry on his face.

Rick just nodded, didn’t object to when she opened his bedroom door again. She was right. And now that Rick knew Michonne would feel better as she left, he knew he had to focus on Carl.

When she walked out the door, Rick collapsed on his bed again, buried his hands in his face. Trying to figure out how to best break the news to his son. To wait or just get it over with. To approach it like it was no big deal, or acknowledge how strange the situation was. Either way, he still couldn’t stop the hesitant smile from forming on his face, not even when he tried to shake it off.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I wasn't gonna work on this until I finished my other fic, but well...yeah. Forgive a shitty editing job because I was just so excited to finish a chapter that I half assed it, no lies. And I've realized that this fic is just my fangirl having a field day. Sorry. But not entirely.

_His lips were so soft. Softer than Michonne would’ve ever thought possible. Even with his beard scratching against her face, it didn’t take away from his slow, easy kisses, didn’‘t distract her from how wonderfully wet his tongue was when it slid into her mouth. When it intertwined with her own, milking a moan past her lips and into his mouth, Michonne felt the heat rush through her again, her pelvis pushing against his, begging to have more than his tongue inside of her._

_And his tongue might’ve been patiently working hers, but his hands on her ass were greedy, gripping hard, his rough fingertips digging into Michonne’s skin with need._

_But he wasn’‘t going to push into her just yet. Michonne could tell Rick was enjoying the tease just as much. With her thighs wrapped around him, straddling his waist, she could feel every hard inch of his cock pressing against her, slick between her swollen lips, grazing against her in the place she needed it the most, but never pushing inside. With every thrust of his hips he’d grip her ass tighter, whimper into her mouth and she’d find herself rocking in rhythm, wanting to beg the man underneath to fill her already._

_Pulling away, he pressed his sweaty forehead against her, pushing against her once more with his hold still tight, putting as much friction between them as he could, both of them moaning at the sensation as his cock slid over her clit, forcing her thighs to clench tight around him, pleading for him to continue._

_Rick kissed her again, quick, hungry, his teeth biting down on her bottom lip as he held their bodies in place with his strong hands, rolling his hips in a circle. His grunts were filling her ears, but still not quite muffling the sounds of their bodies working together, all overloading her senses, forcing every part of her body to throb against his, begging for a release._

_Sitting up, Michonne ran her hands down over his strong body, each lean muscle flexed from the effort he was putting into it. His blue eyes were bearing into hers as he watched the pleasure form on her face, it was the only thing stopping her from closing her own eyes and imagining he was already inside of her, sliding into her walls, stroking her from within._

_She felt him twitch beneath her, his hands sliding up her sweaty back just as he sat up, closing any distance left between them._

_His lips were hungry now, rough, his tongue plunging into her mouth with the effort Michonne wanted his cock gliding into her with._

_And Rick knew it._

_She pulled away and met his eyes again, seen that lazy grin on his face, his lips tugging into a smile that told her Rick knew just how bad she wanted him._

_With his hands on her hips, she bared down and grinded against him, forcing a grunt out of his mouth that was music to her ears, even her nipples aching from the sound of this man wanting her just as badly as she needed him. And like he could read her mind, his lips engulfed one of her hard buds, his tongue flicking over it in time with each roll of his hips._

_“Please...”_

_Michonne panted the words, had never heard herself sound so very desperate before._

_But it worked like a charm. His mouth left her chest after a few more strokes of tongue, his strong hands finally lifting her hips, eager to finally push inside of her, the head of his hard cock already dipping into her wet entrance._

 

Michonne’s body jerked before her eyes even opened, the sound of her phone’s familiar alarm filling her ears. And she wasn’t sure what was frustrating her hazy mind more. The sudden unwanted wake up call that was painful every morning, or her own body’s needy frustration that had followed her from her dreams and into her real bed, a raw desire that was specific to that morning, to that dream.

Finally finding the right button in a fumble, she shut the alarm off and tossed her phone on the bed, collapsing next to it in a sigh. 

A sex dream. About Rick.

She wanted to cringe in embarrassment but her body wasn’t ashamed at all, it was happy to betray her. Instead of blushing, her skin was still flushed hot, her arousal just as fresh as it’d been moments before when she’d still been sleeping, had still been dreaming of Rick’s hard body moving beneath her. She stared out into space, trying to focus on something, anything to distract her brain but it wasn’t working. Rick’s hands may as well have still been running over her hips, his lips still kissing down her jaw.

Michonne sat up, shook her head, told herself it was just a dream. She’d heard that pregnancy dreams could get a bit intense, that the body’s heightened senses made it feel even more real. And if she needed anymore proof that the books were right, she needed to look no further than at her own sweaty skin, could feel the truth as her heart pounded harder in her chest.

“Jesus.” 

She whispered it to herself in the bedroom, finally forcing herself out of bed and walked towards in the bathroom on shaky legs.

And Michonne had never been more thankful to live alone, glad that no one was there to witness the guilt on her face for having such an intense fantasy about her best friend who, according to Michonne’s own thoughts just a few days before, she couldn’t even imagine with a penis. But even the cold water from the shower head was doing nothing to wash away the memory, her brain seemingly refusing to let go of Rick, until eventually she gave up and let her mind wander.

It hadn’t been a fantasy. Just a dream. No one could control their dreams she told herself. 

And dreaming about Rick made sense. They had slept together at some point and the proof was currently growing inside of her, reminding Michonne every single day of what they’d done. Even if she couldn’t remember, she’d be a liar if she claimed she’d never wondered what it’d been like, just out of mere curiosity. It was no wonder he’d leaked into her subconscious, no surprise at all that her brain had tried filling in details that were forever lost to her.

Michonne even knew that any arousal she’d felt upon waking up was just an effect of having such an erotic dream, it didn’t mean anything more. 

Even so, after getting dressed and having a quick bland breakfast so as not to upset her stomach, she left her house and refused to let her eyes even dart over towards the Grimes household as she got into her car. It was bad enough that Michonne knew she needed to stop by after work, to check in. Rick had been working crazy hours the last few days and on top of her preparing for the end of the school year, they’d simply been missing each other in passing.

They hadn’t spoken since the night she’d told him the news, and even if it was an intimidating idea, Michonne knew they eventually needed to talk. Had to slowly start figuring things out. 

But either way, she wanted her mind clear the next time she seen him. The last thing she needed to be thinking about was the way he’d smiled in her dream, how tight his hands had gripped her. No, it was best not to look him in the face and contemplate if Rick really was that sensual in bed, if maybe their bodies worked together just as seamlessly as their personalities. The next time she stared into his eyes, she didn’t wanna be imagining him pressed between her thighs.

Michonne felt herself blushing again as she started her car and immediately shook her head.

She had to knock it off. It was Rick for fuck’s sake. Not even real Rick, but a dream Rick. And that was what finally eased her fears, made the flutter in her stomach disappear as she drove off. It’d just been a dream.

 

 

Even though it wasn’t her first year teaching, the last day of the school year still hurt just as badly as the first time she’d had to wish a class full of six year olds goodbye. It never got easier. She spent most of a year with these children. Michonne always learned their fears, their strengths, which ones had eager parents and which poor souls had adults in their lives that barely noticed them. 

And as she sat at her desk and watched the last little boy run out of her door, eager for summer, Michonne fought a back her smile and a few tears. This year seemed particularly painful, the pregnancy hormones not helping her emotions at all. She blamed them for the other thoughts running through her head too, the images her mind was forming.

A little boy of the same age. But this one with the last name Grimes that tilted his head like his father when he was thinking and with Michonne’s brown eyes and curly black hair. She envisioned their kid starting school, a tiny back pack strapped to his back, brand new sneakers on his feet. 

Would they both be waving him off? She already knew the answer. Of course they would. This little boy would definitely be one of the students with eager parents.

Rick would probably handle it better than her, he’d already sent one kid off to school, already knew the feeling of entrusting his son’s young mind in the hands of another person. Michonne would be probably the one emotional that day, she already was just thinking about it. 

“Hey you.”

Michonne glanced up from the desk, happy to see Andrea standing in the doorway of her classroom, a perfect distraction from her messy emotions.

“You look upset.” Andrea commented, coming inside and making herself comfortable in the chair that sat next to Michonne’s desk. The one where Michonne always placed the misbehaving kids.

It seemed fitting. Andrea tended to misbehave too.

“Just hate watching them go, ya know?”

Andrea just shook her head and laughed, her eyes shinning with the same excitement all of the students had burned with that day.

“God no. I love watching them leave. Sometimes I fantasize about running out before they do. I think I picked the wrong job.”

“I think you did too.”

They both laughed and Michonne already felt herself perking up. As much as she liked children, she had to admit she was looking forward to the summer too. And she’d see them all again in the halls next year anyway, a few would still stop by to see her and she’d be shocked like she always was when she seen how much a child could grow in just a few short months.

But this time, she’d be growing too. By the time they all returned after break, her pregnancy would be visible and everyone would know.

“So you told him, right?” Andrea asked, almost reading the direction of Michonne’s thoughts. “How’d it go?”

“It went.”

When Andrea just stared at her, ready for details, Michonne went on, still not sure if she wanted to be thinking about Rick after what had happened that morning.

“He didn’t exactly jump for joy. And I was worried for a second, but he’s okay. Okay he’s more than okay, he grinned like a idiot.” She finally admitted. “Once it had time to set in at least.”

“See, I told you not to worry. Did you really think he would react badly?”

Michonne considered it and the answer was no. Now that the shock of the pregnancy was very slowly starting to fade and her nerves weren’t as bad, she knew she’d been silly to worry for even a second that Rick wouldn’t want to be involved. But hindsight was always 20/20.

“He say anything else?” Andrea asked, clearly wanting every last tid bit of information Michonne would throw her way.

“No. He seems confident we’ll figure this out. He’s already calling it _our_ baby.”

The words forced a knowing laugh out of Andrea, her smile almost as big as her eyes. She was nodding along, almost like Michonne wasn’t telling her anything she didn’t already know.

“Mhmm. I bet he is.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Michonne asked, staring suspiciously at her friend, feeling a bit lost.

“Oh come on. If he can’t stake his claim on you yet, he’s gonna claim that baby. Proof he finally got to sleep with you, right?”

Andrea was laughing at her joke and while Michonne knew she was kidding, she also understood what Andrea was hinting at. An idea so insane Michonne just stared back, waiting for the other woman to go on, just to see what she’d say.

“You can’t tell me you don’t see it.” Andrea told her, her eyebrows raised.

“See what?”

“The way he looks at you. The way his eyes always seem to find you in a room. Or better yet, how you’re one of the few people he’s been close to since Lori. Rick cooks you dinner, tries to fix your appliances, trusts you with his son. You may as well be married already. And I bet if he could have it his way, you would be.”

Of course Michonne had noticed the way Rick’s stare had a tendency to linger on her back side. And while she didn’t consider herself conceited, Michonne was damn proud of her ass. So what if he looked at it? Just made him a man, only meant he was human. She’d never really put much thought into it, had simply shrugged when ever his stare was hot on her skin, figuring she couldn’t blame a single man for stealing a glance or two.

But taking note of a good figure didn’t mean what Andrea was saying. 

“You’re wrong.” Michonne told her friend, her voice stronger than her conviction.

Andrea shrugged and exhaled, a long sigh that told Michonne all she needed to know. Andrea was convinced she was right. 

“Okay, but it’ll come out. You’re having the man’s baby. And if there’s any feelings there at all, they’re going to come bubbling to the surface quicker than you can deny it. I promise.”

Michonne said nothing, let the silence fill the classroom while Andrea’s warning filled her mind. 

Maybe she could admit that Rick might possibly have a small crush on her. But it was harmless. They’d slept together and he’d been fine to go back to being friends. Clearly, whatever was going on in his mind, he was smart enough to separate fantasy from reality. A baby didn’t have to change that. The only person that seemed so convinced was Andrea, who continued to speak, dead set on getting her point across.

“If you asked him to jump, he wouldn’t stop to ask how high. No. Rick would just start jumping without a single question, wouldn’t stop until he was high enough to please you.”

That time Michonne did laugh. It was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard. Almost as ridiculous as the small part of her that could imagine him actually doing it. 

“So have you ever checked out his...goodies?” 

Michonne had expected the question, but she hadn’t expected the memories of that dream to come flooding back so quickly, to think of Rick’s strong hold on her body, to recall just how intensely she’d reacted to his touch. 

But that had all been in her head, never once before that had Michonne ever really looked twice at him. Sure, he was good looking. In a boot-wearing, boyish smile, narrow hip, type of way. But she definitely didn’t check out his ass every time he walked away like he did to her. Well, except for maybe that one time she‘d seen him wearing the gun belt with his jeans instead of his uniform pants. But that’d definitely only been once, a rare occurrence.

“No.” She answered before Andrea noticed her hesitation and realized how much thought Michonne had put into the answer.

But Andrea’s next question didn’t help either. In fact it was the one thing the other woman could mention that could possibly make Michonne squirm worse than the topic of Rick.

“Good. Then that means you can keep your word and go on that date.”

Michonne didn’t even try to hide the distaste on her face. She’d almost forgotten about the date Andrea had set up for her after everything that’d happened. Originally she’d agreed to go just for Andrea’s sake. Her friend was trying so hard to set her up, Michonne figured she’d go once so at least she could say she’d tried it.

“Go on a blind date while I’m pregnant?” Michonne asked skeptically. “You really think that’s going to go well?”

She couldn’t believe Andrea’s persistence. But it shouldn’t have been surprising. Andrea enjoyed men and she just wanted Michonne to have some fun too.

“No one said you had to tell him. You aren’t marrying anyone, ya know. Just go for a fun night out. A free, fun night out. He isn’t expecting you to even sleep with him, he’s not that that type.”

Even if this man Michonne had never met wasn’t expecting her to sleep with him, even if he was the nicest human being on the planet, she still felt weird going on a date while she was pregnant. It didn’t sit well with her, nor would it sit well for this guy if he ever found out she’d simply used him for a free meal.

“Just tell him I backed out.”

“Or just go.” Andrea insisted.

They stared each other down for a second, and no matter how hard Michonne squinted at her friend in mock hatred, Andrea just smiled, completely unphased.

“Unless you’d rather stay at home, of course. Just spend your days alone while you swell up like a balloon and Rick stares at your ass. You may as well just give him what he wants if that’s the way it’s gonna be.”

Michonne didn’t even crack a smile, already she knew what Andrea was trying.

“Yep. Just you and Rick. I can already see it. Growing old together, but celibate. Because you don’t see him like that, right? ”

And sadly, it worked. Part of it was because of that damn dream, Michonne could own up to that. Already she was feeling guilty for what her mind had thought up. The last thing she needed to think was that he was in some way preventing her from considering someone else. And if she were being entirely honest with herself, no matter how much the thought made her cringe, Michonne knew she was going to do it just to prove that dream had meant nothing.

And maybe Andrea was right. Maybe one date wouldn’t hurt anything.

At worst she’d waste a few hours with someone she had no interest in and at best maybe she’d have some good conversation, meet someone new. It didn’t have to lead to anything.

“Fine I’ll go.” Michonne hesitantly agreed. “Tell him I’ll go. But I won’t like it.”

Andrea grinned and laughed, actually cackled, pleased to hear the answer.

“Good. You don’t have to like it. You just have to go. It’ll be good for you.”

Somehow Michonne doubted that. Even after Andrea had left with promises to call this mystery guy and left Michonne alone to finish up some paperwork, she was still convinced it was a bad idea.

It wasn’t until she’d shut the lights off in her classroom, drove home in denial, and parked her car in front of her house, her eyes landing Rick’s police cruiser did she start to think Andrea may have a point. A date would help push away the pictures in her head of Rick’s blue eyes staring back up at her as she’d straddled him in her dream. It might even stop the small flutters she felt in her stomach as she walked towards his door, praying he couldn’t read her dirty mind when she walked in.

 

“Where’s Carl?”

It was the first question out of her mouth when she walked in to find Rick sitting alone in the living room, his body sprawled out comfortably on the couch. She’d been depending on Carl to be there, to have the teenager eagerly greet her, to put her mind at ease once again. To make everything feel normal again.

“He went to Daryl’s. Hunting lessons or something, I don’t know.”

Michonne still sometimes found their friendship odd. Neither man was big on words and when she imagined them hanging out alone together, she always pictured them communicating in grunts and hand signals. But then again, she knew the same could probably be said of her and Rick too to an outsider.

“He coming back?”

“I don’t know that either.” He shrugged with a lazy smile on his face, clearly exhausted from all the hours he’d been putting in lately.

And it was the same lazy grin from her dream, almost forcing Michonne to stop in her tracks, to turn around and leave. But she knew she couldn’t avoid him forever, eventually the memories would fade. They had to. So instead she just walked over, motioned with her eyes.

“Scooch.” She told him, willing her body to do what she’d normally do on any other day, just sit on the couch and talk.

Rick immediately listened, sitting up just enough to allow her a small space on the corner to sit down next to him, and then to her surprise he plopped his head right back down her shoulder, using her as a human pillow.

And God, could she smell him. Like Irish Spring or Old Spice, something clean, the very same scent that had filled her nostrils in her dream, over powering her senses thanks to her increase in hormones. The very same hormones that had made her sleeping brain think of him in the first place.

“Can I help you?” She asked, meaning for it to be a joke but deep down, Michonne knew she was serious.

She just wanted Rick off of her, to stop reminding her of everything she was trying to forget. Even if this was something he didn’t normally do, was only doing out of pure exhaustion, she wouldn’t have felt bad if he’d taken her seriously. 

“Nope.” He told her, getting more comfortable as he leaned against her arm, a sleepy moan escaping his lips as he relaxed.

And it was the same moan too. Maybe for different reasons, but a moan all the same. He might’ve been able to relax, but she’d never felt more awake, trying to hide the fact that every one of her muscles had tensed to the sound, tried to pretend she wasn’t putting effort into controlling her breathing.

“We should probably talk about stuff, huh?” He asked, but his voice was weak, and Michonne knew if she stayed still that eventually he was going to give into the sleep that was pulling him in.

“We can talk later. We have nine months. Or more like eight now...” She whispered, trying to keep the mood light, trying to put herself at ease, more than him.

She heard him laugh, felt his body vibrating against hers. She wasn’t sure why she’d let him off the hook. Maybe because Rick really was tired and it wasn’t the best time, or maybe because having him squished against her wasn’t entirely all bad. 

Even if it was making her feel like she’d just stepped into the twilight zone, even when she started closing her own eyes, losing herself in the very same thoughts that had made her uncomfortable that very same morning, she stayed still. Breathed him in. 

But the peace didn’t last long. 

Rick repositioned himself, his beard brushing against her upper arm and Michonne’s eyes immediately snapped open to the sensation. It hadn’t even been her face, but the effects were the same. It was still his facial hair on her skin, rubbing raw against her.

She jerked away, not caring anymore how tired he was.

“You should shave.” Michonne told him, blurting the first words out that came to her mind.

He definitely needed to shave. It would be one less thing that would remind her of that dream. 

She heard him sigh, thought for sure he was just going to laugh her off like he did everyone else when they gave him the same advice.

But instead she felt the weight of his body leave hers, watched as he stood up and stretched his lean frame without a word. 

“Where are you going?”

He took a few steps, then turned to face her. His eyes were still red and heavy, his posture that of a man who clearly had no desire to move his body anymore than necessary. But there was no impatience on his face, no frustration from having to get up. And she hadn’t told him to get up, he hadn’t really needed to.

“To shave.”

Michonne met his eyes to see if he was serious, and he was. Just stood there, waiting to be dismissed.

“I didn’t mean right now.” She told him, smiling, despite the suspicion creeping into her brain, that maybe Andrea had been spot on.

Rick just shrugged before answering, his words proving just how very right the suspicion was.

“You just told me to shave.”

She watched him walk away, the white t-shirt finally disappearing up the steps with the sounds of his footsteps. Michonne sat there for a few more moments before getting up, couldn’t stop herself from going up the stairs too, praying she was wrong as she went. But Michonne knew what she was going to find. She’d discover him jumping on command, just as Andrea had predicted.


End file.
